Heroes
by DarkStrider
Summary: A freak incident will change mankind forever and give rise to both a new breed of hero and villains out of nightmares. The world will never be the same again.
1. Ignition

Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist or Castle.

Chapter 1

The sensation of sharp grit gouging into her face wrenched Teresa Lisbon from the tranquillity of unconsciousness into the realm of the living. Less than a fraction of a second later, Teresa grit her teeth at the tidal wave of agony that raked across her nerves like broken glass. After the initial surge passed, she drew a shaky breath, nearly choking on the artificial chemical that saturated the air. Keeping her eyes closed, Teresa finally managed to force the desire to retch down and tried to draw on her scattered wits.

Everything hurt. Her ribs felt like they had been smashed with a sledgehammer, her skull squashed like a ripe fruit. Her ears rang with overpowering tinnitus and blinding white spots repeatedly obscured her vision with every leaden blink.

_I feel like crap,_ Teresa thought darkly. Heaving another deep breath into her protesting lungs and grimacing at the acrid taste of chemicals in her mouth, Teresa forced her eyes to focus past the drifting spots and survey the area. Swallowing convulsively, the CBI agent beheld the flaming wreckage surrounding her and her own shredded clothing, noticing the dark spots of blood that slowly spread from numerous shallow wounds. Thankfully none were life threatening, and she gave a relieved sigh that turned into a burning cough that set her lungs and ribs ablaze with pain.

Nearby she spotted the recumbent figure of Patrick Jane half buried by debris, several long lacerations shredding the arms of his expensive three piece suit and exposing raw flesh beneath. Groaning softly, Teresa dragged herself across to him for three torturous metres until she could reach his face. Gently, Teresa slapped the consultant across the cheeks after checking for a pulse.

"Jane," she rasped, wincing at the rawness of her throat. After getting no response, she slapped his face again, this time more roughly. "Jane!" Teresa felt relief wash over her as Patrick slowly blinked one eye open and allowed his head to loll sideways to face her with a wry expression.

"Of all the ways that I imagined waking up to your face, my dear, this is a far poorer substitute," he said. Teresa gave him an exhausted glare at his smart comment.

"Shut up and help me dig you out," she ordered. "I think I've got some cracked ribs, if they're not totally busted."

"It would be a bit stupid to try and dig me out then, wouldn't it? Though you're stubborn enough to do it anyway, aren't you Lisbon?" Patrick replied. Teresa glowered and made no comment, letting her head gently rest against the cracked ground as a bone-deep weariness settled upon her like a lead weight, despite knowing that they needed to move and get out of the destroyed warehouse before something either collapsed upon them or the numerous small fires erupted into a larger conflagration.

"Don't your arms hurt?" she whispered, too tired to do more than keep breathing.

"Can't feel them," Patrick admitted. "I'm not going to look, either. I can remain blissfully ignorant until help gets here instead. Were they bleeding badly?"

"Not really," Teresa said. "You remember what happened? My memory's hazy." Several minutes of silence went by before the consultant replied; pulling her from the semi-conscious stupor she had lapsed into.

"We came in with the NYPD," Patrick said, "as a courtesy, from what I recall. We consulted. There was a fire fight, things got confusing and then the explosion. I forget after that," Patrick admitted.

"The NYPD?" Teresa asked, struggling to stay awake. Understanding her real question, Patrick lolled his head in the other direction to look around.

"I see 'em," he slurred, the edges of his vision tunnelling alarmingly. "Dunno 'f they're okay though." Getting the confirmation she needed, Teresa lost the fight and sank into welcoming darkness. Moments later, Patrick followed, a soft oath whispering from his lips.

Ten feet away, Kate Beckett watched through barely cracked lids, her laboured breaths coming in soft pants. A shadow loomed over her prone form, making her struggle to raise her eyes up until a gentle voice quieted her worries.

"Rest easy, Detective, I've got you."

A soft smile stretched across her bloody lips as she gazed into the piercing blue eyes of Richard Castle, NYPD consultant and bestselling crime novelist, her eyes lazily drifting over his dirt encrusted and bloody features.

"You look like hell, Castle," Kate whispered. Rick gave a carefree smile and shrugged, wincing slightly at some unseen injury beneath his 'Writer' vest.

"Guess after one narrow escape the universe wasn't willing to let me get out of being blown up twice," he joked, referring to their narrow brush with a dirty bomb several months prior. Kate rolled her eyes gently, grimacing when her head protested the action with a spike of pain.

"Get us out of here, Castle," she murmured, rolling her head to rest against his collarbone as he picked her up in a bridal lift. "And thanks."

His reply vibrated through her body in soft, warm tones at odds with the menacing snap of flames in the background. "Always."

Kate allowed the gentle rock of her partner's steps to send her drifting off to sleep, comforted by the knowledge he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.

Author's Note: So here's another new story. Sorry! This one should be interesting though. I have some plans that should keep the momentum going, I hope. I've started tweeting my writing thoughts, so anyone who wants to follow me, my username on Twitter is Lliraeden. Follow if you dare!

The next chapter should be out in a couple of weeks or so. Maybe earlier if I manage to keep it up! As always, feedback is the coin of the realm. The more I get the more I'll want to write! I hope everyone enjoys this one. It's going to be mental!


	2. Convergence

Oppressive heat seared at her skin, the air clogged and thick with chemicals that fairly oozed down her nose and throat with every breath that she took. Shifting slightly, Temperance grimaced as her body protested and silently began an inventory of the damage.

_Fractured right radius and ulna, broken clavicle and at least three broken ribs with two or more severely bruised with possible internal trauma from the blast wave. _Temperance lifted her head sluggishly and tilted it experimentally. A dizzying sensation and sickening lurch in her stomach confirmed her fear. _A severe concussion as well._ Her attempts to move further were halted by the numbing pressure on her waist. Bleary eyes stared at the large metal beam partially obscured by darkness and smoke in incomprehension for several seconds before Temperance realised the rather permanent end she had narrowly escaped. Any further thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice calling her name.

"Bones! Bones, where are you?" Temperance sagged in relief, her mind still spinning aimlessly as she tried to work out what had happened to cause such a disaster of epic proportions. After allowing herself to revel in the relief for a moment or two, Temperance drew an agonising breath through the stabbing pain of her ribs.

"Over here, Booth!" she cried weakly, cursing her bruised and broken ribs for hindering her attempt. Despite the lack of power in her cry however, it appeared the noise was enough and soon the debris that she lay half buried under began to shift. Several endless minutes later, the air was thick enough that breathing was becoming extremely difficult before the worried face of her partner appeared in her line of sight. He was covered in blood from a head wound and his clothing had been shredded and burnt to scraps that barely covered his modesty, several bleeding lacerations open to the air beneath. Uncaring of that however, he worked furiously with two other indistinct figures until he had enough room to get to her.

"Hey, Bones, I gotcha. What's your status?" he asked. Temperance blinked as she gathered her concentration before she rattled off her injuries, belatedly remembering to add the concussion when she brutally suppressed the urge to vomit, likely avoiding further trauma to her ribs. "Okay, that's good, Bones. No major untreatable wounds. Let's get you out from under there then, huh?" When Temperance gave a slow, careful nod, he grinned at her, the whites of his teeth seeming startlingly bright in the flickering lights of the fires.

"What about the fires?" Temperance ground out as the movement of the steel beam aggravated her ribs.

"Esposito! Careful, goddamnit!" Seeley roared as he turned away briefly. "The fire department is here and is tackling everything. They tried to get me to leave," he added, his lips twisting with the force of his displeasure. "I ignored 'em anyway. No way was I gonna leave getting you out to some New York fireman fresh out of the academy!"

"Thanks, Booth," Temperance muttered through her gritted teeth, trying to communicate with her eyes how grateful she was that he had returned for her. Seeley winked jovially in reply, though his eyes were grave and angry. Temperance knew it was likely directed at both himself and the perpetrator of the incident, though she could not recall exactly how they had gotten into such a situation. Seeley braced his legs astride her hips as he lent his not inconsiderable strength to the efforts in lifting the beam off of her. When it had lifted enough, a thin, blue eyed man wearing a badly damaged NYPD ballistic vest gently reached under her and pulled her out and over to a reasonably clear area.

"Hiya," he greeted with a grin full of bravado. "Nice to meet you under better circumstances! I'm Detective Kevin Ryan, NYPD." Temperance noticed his hands shaking with adrenaline as he slowly helped her to her feet.

"Doctor Temperance Brennan, I'm Booth's partner," Temperance replied. Kevin chuckled.

"Oh I know. FBI guy over there sure raised a hell of a stink to get back in here. Let's go before we die from smoke inhalation though, okay?" Temperance managed a smile of acquiescence and had just placed her good arm over the detective's shoulder when Seeley loomed out of the darkness, a swarthy Mexican man, also wearing an NYPD ballistics vest, supported over his shoulders and coughing weakly.

"Let's go," he commanded grimly after a cursory glance around the area. Fire fighters were swarming the different fires, the smoke rising up out of the gaping chasm that had once been the roof of the warehouse, destroyed in the blast that had caused all the damage. The foursome limped their way outside in silence, passing several fire trucks and a small army of NYPD officers until they arrived at a pair of ambulances with empty beds. Kevin helped Temperance up onto one of the beds before giving her an apologetic smile and hurrying over to Seeley and his partner, presumably the man called Esposito that Seeley had yelled at. In turn, Seeley returned to her and stood nervously by as the EMT checked her over.

"Don't bother, I can tell you my injuries," Temperance protested as the middle-aged man flashed a pen torch in her eyes. Seeley chuckled and leaned against the bed next to her.

"Let him do his job, Bones, okay? Please?" His dark brown eyes bored into hers pleadingly. Temperance pursed her lips in annoyance, but held off further protests and coolly answered the medic's questions until he was satisfied and confirmed that she would have to go to a hospital.

"What happened?" Temperance asked after being loaded into the ambulance, spotting that the two detectives that had helped retrieve her were also being loaded into the other van.

"A total clusterfuck, that's what happened," Seeley muttered, clearly reigning in the majority of his anger for her sake. "What do you remember?" he asked.

"Not much," Temperance admitted. Seeley nodded and sighed as the EMT turned his attentions to cleaning the blood off of his face and stemming the bleeding from his head wound.

"Okay, so you remember that we had the case in New York, the one where the body was found entombed in the bridge supports?" When Temperance nodded, Seeley continued. "We tracked the perp to a human trafficking ring and went for the bust. Sadly, the higher ups forgot to check with the NYPD. Apparently, on the other side of the building, they were also making an entrance for a raid. Both of us came in from opposite ends of the warehouse, the perp and his buddies panicked and started a fire fight. Course, we're handicapped by the crossfire, so it's a stalemate, until one of the bastards decides to cut his losses and jump ship. Only to cover his ass, he sets off some kind of device piled in with whatever merchandise they were looking to move. Lucky there was a stalemate, or we'd have been closer and would be dead."

Temperance stared at the ceiling of the ambulance in silence, ignoring the fire in her side or the angry throbbing of her arm and collar bone in favour of processing.

"I'm very glad we did not die, Booth," she stated after several minutes, her blue eyes boring into her partner's earnestly. Seeley cracked a smile in response.

"Me too, Bones. Me too."

The hospital was as Temperance expected, though the police at every corner was somewhat surprising. "Anti-terror response," Seeley explained upon seeing her confusion. Once they arrived in trauma however, they were separated for treatment, Temperance having her ribs wrapped, arm placed in a cast and shoulder slung to avoid jarring her collarbone and Seeley having his wounds cleaned and stitched, along with a set of hospital scrubs to replace his own destroyed clothing.

Finally, after what seemed hours of being poked, prodded and asked dozens of questions over and over, they found themselves in a small private ward, several other beds shielded by privacy curtains.

"Hey, Booth?" Temperance started, having coerced Booth into drawing back the privacy screen between their two beds.

"Yeah, Bones?" Seeley replied, watching her carefully.

"There were chemicals in the air. I could taste them. It is possible that severe side-effects could occur due to our exposure. The doctor I spoke to said that they are doing all the tests that they can to try and pinpoint what we were exposed to, but it will be a massive dose. I am extremely confident that side-effects will develop in the next seven to ten days," Temperance confessed, her face solemn. Seeley swallowed in trepidation before forcing a tight smile.

"Well, I'll be right next to you, whatever happens, okay, Bones?" he stated firmly. Temperance allowed herself to give him a tremulous smile, even as tears welled in her eyes.

"What sort of side-effects?" a strange male voice spoke from one of the other beds on the ward, startling the pair of them. Temperance exchanged a glance with Seeley for a moment before he haltingly got to his feet and further drew back the curtain to discover their neighbours. Directly opposite temperance's bed, propped up and swathed in bandages from finger to shoulder, sat a sandy-haired man with vivid blue eyes. A drip disappeared under his bandages from where it hung at his bedside. "Hi," he greeted with a crooked grin that seemed a little too wide. He glanced between the pair of them before blinking, his eyes slightly glassy.

"Oh, sorry! Where are my manners? Patrick Jane, consultant with the California Bureau of Investigation. I was at the warehouse too," he added, raising his mummified arms and peering at them curiously. "I also happen to be on quite a lot of morphine, so this doesn't hurt at the moment," he explained with a smile.

"Ignore him, it really does help." A wry woman's voice interjected. Another curtain drew back, this one directly opposite Seeley's bed. "Senior Agent Theresa Lisbon, CBI," she introduced. Temperance examined her for a moment.

"You have excellent bone structure," she complimented diplomatically. Theresa blinked, nonplussed.

"Bones!" Seeley groused with exasperation. "Really?"

"It seemed a good way to diffuse the tension," Temperance defended, frowning in annoyance at his embarrassment. A laugh cut off any further reply as Patrick turned to Theresa.

"I like her, she's very honest!" he grinned. Theresa groaned and allowed herself to sink back onto the bed.

"God, Jane on painkillers, the world is doomed," she muttered. Another laugh, deeper and full of amusement echoed around the ward as a tall brown haired man pulled back the last two privacy screens, revealing a woman reclining on the bed and glaring at him in annoyance.

"It seems we're all getting acquainted, so I thought we'd join the party. I'm Richard Castle, consultant with the NYPD and my partner, the lovely Detective Kate Beckett, currently indisposed." Rick said with a flourish and a wink in Kate's direction.

"Castle," Kate growled warningly. Temperance blinked in surprise, an eyebrow rising as recognition set in.

"Hi, Rick," she said with an idle wave of her left arm. Rick goggled as he got a good look at her for the first time.

"Tempe?" he asked, seemingly stupefied. Temperance gave a careful nod, grimacing after the world lurched in response.

"You know this guy, Bones?" Seeley asked, frowning at the other man suspiciously.

"Yes, Booth, he's a writer, like me. It appears he also helps to 'catch bad guys,'" she quoted. "He has a flair for the dramatic, but his writing is compelling. You are a little over light on procedurals, though," Temperance said to Rick.

"So you keep telling me at every convention," rick replied, looking amused. "Well, this is a turnout, isn't it?"

"You were talking about side-effects first of all however; I'd like to get back to that please?" Patrick interjected. Over in her bed, Theresa covered her face with one hand in dismay. Temperance blinked, pulled out of her surprised contemplation.

"Oh, yes. Depending on the chemical that we were exposed to, it is highly likely that we could develop severe dermal lesions leading to cancers of various types, possible blindness, the development of any type of breathing condition, muscle atrophy or even a compromised immune system shortly followed by death. To name a few possible side-effects," she added. Everyone stared, their faces pale.

"You don't sugar-coat it, do you?" Theresa said at last. Temperance favoured her with an annoyed look.

"What would be the point? The more aware you all are of the possible side-effects, the sooner you might catch them and report them to the doctors and receive any treatment available. It is far better to make you aware of the situation than keep you in the dark as some form of 'kindness.' That's not kindness, it's cruelty." Silence pervaded after her statement as everyone became lost in thought. At length, Kate spoke up, her voice rough and raspy.

"We're totally fucked, aren't we?"

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Author's note: Here's chapter 2! Hope you all like it! All thoughts are welcome and will be used to fuel my further creative drive! Remember, feedback: it's the coin of the realm!


	3. Fever

Chapter 3: Fever

Temperance held her tongue against advising the nurse how to draw blood in a more efficient manner at the pleading look Seeley cast over the young woman's shoulder and settled instead for glancing around their private ward, now somewhat more populated with the addition of detectives Esposito and Ryan, who had arrived half an hour after detective Beckett's colourful proclamation.

Continuing her perusal, Temperance watched Rick as he paced back and forth in front of the window, evidently on the phone to his daughter, judging from the gentle look on his face as he murmured assurances of his continued health. Temperance considered it unlikely that he would relay the possibility of severe side-effects from the chemicals they had been exposed to, despite her recommendation to the contrary.

"There, all done!" the nurse exclaimed cheerfully, beaming a wide, entirely over-enthusiastic smile in her direction. Temperance eyed her balefully, opening her mouth to ask what had taken so long before she caught sight of Seeley's pleading expression again from where he also was dealing with his own, far more competent, nurse and changing her words accordingly.

"Thank you," she replied, crisply. It was the best she could do without outright lying, she supposed. As the nurse bounced off, her ludicrously high ponytail swishing energetically with each step, Temperance caught the knowing gaze of Patrick Jane, who winked and smiled rakishly at her in amusement. Temperance smothered a smile, grateful for the other man's understanding, before shifting to reach her chart so she could begin reviewing the information.

"Hey, Bones," Seeley greeted as he came alongside her bed. Temperance pursed her lips chidingly and peered up at his pale complexion with poorly concealed worry.

"Sit back in bed, Booth, we can still talk and you can get your rest. You appear about to collapse, if your pale skin and profuse sweating is any indication." Her partner grimaced and hobbled back to the bed.

"Thanks, Bones, good to know my profuse sweating has gotten noticeable," he grumbled.

"'Has been noticed,'" Temperance corrected, absently as she scanned her chart's notes.

"What?" Seeley asked.

"The correct phrase is 'has been noticed,' Booth," Temperance repeated and glanced up after a long moment of incredulous silence had passed. Booth favoured her with a fondly exasperated look and raised his eyebrows.

"Really, Bones?" he said, "That's what you're going to comment on?"

"Proper grammar is crucial to efficient understanding, right Tempe?" Rick interjected, dropping his phone onto his bed as he sidled closer.

"Castle!" Beckett snapped as he passed, "Get back in bed and stop giving everyone a free show!" Rick glanced down at his hospital gown and then peered over his shoulder to see his partially exposed rear at the back, before he glanced up and wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

"No one else noticed, detective," he teased.

"I did," Theresa piped up in the other woman's defence. "Just thought it should be her who reigned you back in." The brunette shared a sharp, conspiratorial grin with the New York detective. Rick looked chagrined for a moment before perking up slightly.

"If you both want to double-team me, I certainly won't object!" he replied. Patrick guffawed from his bed and shook his head pityingly at the other man.

"Oh, that was a mistake!" he laughed. "Shouldn't have gone there, you really shouldn't!" Rick glanced between the two women carefully and sighed at the twin devilish grins they sported.

"Noted," he murmured, looking resigned as he trudged back to his bed, holding the gown tighter behind him. Temperance felt her short-lived smile fade as she turned her attention back to the sheets in front of her.

"What's the verdict, Bones?" Seeley asked, now properly situated on his bed and propped up by a mound of cushions. Temperance met his eyes and sighed.

"I'm unable to make any concrete conclusions, unfortunately. There just isn't enough data."

"You have an idea, though," Patrick commented, his face sombre. Temperance nodded.

"Yes," she agreed. "My chart, and I would hazard a guess as to say the same for all of yours as well, shows extremely elevated leucocyte levels, meaning that we are experiencing a strong immune response to the substance that we have been exposed to. That's why they have drawn more fluids to test," Temperance explained, turning to each of the others in turn. "I notice that Booth is not the only one experiencing profuse sweating."

"I thought I pulled it off well," Javier joked.

"That's because you always look sweaty," Kevin sniped, a weak grin on his lips.

"Oh, you gonna go there, bro?" Javier replied. Temperance tuned out the subsequent good-natured bickering, recognising it for the coping mechanism it was and stared into her partner's eyes, absently noting the increased glassiness that shadowed the man's expressive eyes.

"Sleep, Booth. We're all going to need it," she assured, following her own advice and settling her aching body back onto the bed to sleep.

Further over, Beckett stared at her hands as they fisted the starchy material of the hospital bed and forced herself to relax them one finger at a time. Feeling thirsty, she reached for the small glass of water on the bedside table, accidentally catching Rick's eyes when she glanced up.

"Staring," she murmured softly, prompting a small, brittle smile from the author.

"Sorry," he answered, equally quiet as he continued to stare, his eyes holding a depth of emotion rarely seen but constantly felt by the brunette detective. Kate swallowed, feeling unnerved and broke his gaze by taking several large gulps of water, only to frown at the glass in frustration when she found it swiftly empty. "Here," Rick murmured, reaching for the pitcher of water that had been out of her reach, "let me."

"Thanks," Kate said with a quick grateful smile. She could already feel her temperature spiking and plucked at the hospital gown fruitlessly, abruptly deciding to abandon the gesture when she realised how much it annoyed her when others did the same. Refocusing on her partner, Kate steeled herself and met his brilliant blue eyes searchingly. The laughter lines at rick's eyes crinkled as he smiled at her.

"Always," he stated easily. Kate allowed her eyes to trace his features, taking in the unspoken promise lurking behind his eyes as she memorised his face over and over for several long, silent minutes. After her gaze returned to a deep gouge a mere finger-width from his left eye for the eighth time, Kate gave up and stared at it thoughtfully, taking in the furrow it had carved into his skin, how close he had come to losing one of his eyes and how it strangely managed to seem quite at home on his face.

"That's going to scar," she pointed out, nodding at the wound and smirking at Rick's self-conscious expression when he reached up to gently probe at the puckered flesh, stitched closed by one of the residents after they had removed a twisted piece of shrapnel that had embedded itself into his flesh.

"I think it'll add an air of danger to my mystique," he replied with faux offense, wincing after he prodded a particularly tender spot. Kate grinned, letting the easy banter paste over the concern that seethed below the surface of her emotions.

"It'll add an air of something, that's for sure," she teased. Her grin slipped away as a wave of exhaustion sapped any strength she had to maintain it. "Alexis and Martha?" she asked.

"On their way," Rick confirmed.

"Did you tell them?" Kate prompted. Rick looked uncomfortable for a moment, before sighing and easing himself back into the mountain of fluffy pillows that had mysteriously appeared shortly after a pretty young nurse had left earlier, giggling and blushing like a schoolgirl. Kate eyed them enviously for a moment before settling back herself, knowing that he would offer to get her some if she really needed them.

"No, not yet. I will when they get here," he assured at her dark look. "What about your dad? Or Doctor Motorcycle Boy?" Kate sighed at the author's ridiculous name for her current boyfriend, Josh, but avoided mentioning it by mutual silent agreement.

"No, though Captain Montgomery will probably tell dad straight away. He usually does," she confessed without thinking. At Rick's raised eyebrows, she grimaced and turned away. "I didn't mean it like that," Kate muttered. Without looking, she could see the author's crooked grin.

"Sure you did, but that's okay," Rick assured her gently, grinning when he spotted her glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes.

Across the room, Patrick watched the unfolding conversation with unfocused eyes that occasionally sharpened before drifting again. Theresa watched this with amusement.

"You should take a break," she ordered, "even you can't be on point when you're pumped full of morphine." Patrick allowed his head to roll in her direction with an expression that attempted to look affronted, but ended up merely looking comical.

"I can, too," he objected, abandoning his expression when he spotted the heightened amusement evident on the petite CBI agent's face. "I'll prove it to you!" he exclaimed. Theresa had no desire to watch the fallout of a drugged-up Patrick Jane's horrifically accurate observations if he was overheard, so shook her head frantically and made shushing motions, belatedly wondering if the doctors had also slipped her some morphine when she wasn't looking.

"That's okay!" she hastened to assure, "I believe you!"

"No, you don't," Patrick replied stubbornly. Theresa deflated slightly, realising that there was no way to avoid Jane proving, even if only to himself, that he could still perform to task whilst high on painkillers.

"Just be quiet!" she hissed, already annoyed at the smugly satisfied look on her consultant's face. "Fine, go ahead. Wow me," she waved on sarcastically.

"Oh, my dear, you should know better by now," Patrick chided, his voice low and expression challenging. Theresa shifted uneasily. "Now, the lovely detective is in love with her author, but is so terrified of commitment that she won't try. On top of that, she's worried about his ability to commit due to his playboy image. Plus, she's gotten herself a stand-in to make herself unavailable whilst getting some typical comforting. Some devilishly handsome, brilliant, yet unsuitable man that she'll throw over in a month or two, I'd imagine.  
>"On the other hand, he's so in love with her that it's not even remotely hidden, though he's getting tired of waiting. But not so tired that he'll give up. He's in too deep for that, too dedicated."<p>

"That's enough, bro." The low tones of Javier Esposito interrupted before he could continue further. "The sitch's already bad enough without you throwing stones into the pond to watch the waves, you know what I'm sayin'?" The Hispanic detective shuffled closer, his forehead beaded with sweat as he gave Patrick a gimlet eye.

"He gets it," Theresa assured when Patrick took too many seconds to respond. A quick glance showed he wore a familiar glazed expression. Javier nodded in satisfaction and shuffled back to his bed, followed by the low rumble of hushed conversation with his partner. Theresa scrutinised Patrick for a moment before scowling. "You are so faking it," she accused. He blinked at her innocently.

"I have no idea what you mean, my dear Lisbon," he replied, his smile practically admitting his guilt. Before she could reply, Theresa felt herself flush with a rapidly spiking temperature and sank back onto the bed, an unwelcome ache creeping through her veins. She fumbled for a moment with the on call button before she managed to depress the bright red button, meeting Patrick's concerned eyes as she did so.

"Getting a fever," Theresa ground out as her stomach twisted painfully. "Pretty bad one," she admitted, having nursed her brothers through several fevers in years past.

"Lie back and rest, Theresa," Patrick soothed, feeling his bandages becoming uncomfortably hot on his skin. He refrained from further platitudes, well aware of their present situation despite the drugs and watched the nurse enter the room, complete a swift assessment and rush back out again, her face grim. Catching the stoic gaze of Temperance Brennan and the well stifled sympathy therein, he sighed. Life was about to get uncomfortably interesting.

AN: Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? I've had this one floating around in my head constantly, so I thought it was time to bite the bullet and get on with writing it! If anyone's interested, I wouldn't mind a proof reader or someone to bounce ideas off of! PM me or send me a tweet! lliraeden on twitter. See you on the flip side and remember: feedback is the coin of the realm! Review, would you kindly?


End file.
